My Neverland
by djmarinizela
Summary: Captain Hook reflects on his past. Who knew there was a bitter sweet memory that he kept in the dark all these years? One shot.


This is remorse, isn't it? Something my men below the deck should never see on the other side of their brave, courageous Captain Hook. There is no room for weakness on this ship.

"CAPTAIN! My dear captain, Peter Pan is approaching!"

His hands wringing with worry, Mr. Smee was carelessly running down the deck – like the idiot he already was – to fetch and give me the alert I already knew was coming and thus inevitable.

A steam of heat rose up to my whole body. My hat and hook were waiting for me at the table, ready to be worn for another useless battle. I bellowed to the crew in response to my sudden state of authority, "Prepare your cannons!", half-choking on my words that failed to reach the highest pitch they could. I watched in amusement and disgust at the sight of my men scurrying 'round the deck. A sudden commotion, and they never got used to it whenever that blasted boy was in the vicinity. A few seconds later, they prepared the fatal weapon we have known to use for so long. After all the bustling and hustling, everyone stood in silence with a few hushing murmurs and prayers, the rest awaiting for orders and getting prepared for my signal.

"Ready! Aim at Pan!"

The continuous blast of the cannons startled the whole island. Fire crackled and sizzled at the end of every wick, hoping to blow the target to smithereens. But the weapon never did anything to scratch that Pan, much less to scare him. He just flew away like some fluttering bird having the time of his life. He blew another raspberry as the imp he was towards my direction. "See you later, Captain Hook!"

Peter Pan has escaped my grasp once again.

My men were looking at me in silence; only the sound of the air could be heard. Heads down, they were too terrified to look me in the eyes, much more to turn their heads to face me. Instead, they were only waiting for me to burst into my temper. "Well? What are you staring at? Bring back those cannons to the shed!" At my final command, they ran once again like ants. I stomped my way to my room where my dear little piano was waiting.

I had enough.

How dare he? That Pan! Making fun of me! He has all the time in his life to enjoy his youth, his childhood, while I never felt like I became a child ever in my entire life. I banged my hook on the scratched keys, making an ear-screeching sound, and took out my watch with my late grandmother's picture on it.

I sat down on the piano stool and sighed. I used to call her Mother, since I had forgotten who my real mother was years ago. Or maybe not. Maybe somehow, I still remembered her, but I was just trying to erase her completely from my past.

This is remorse, isn't it? Something my men below the deck should never see on the other side of their brave, courageous Captain Hook. There is no room for weakness on this ship.

It was Halloween and I wasn't accustomed to sleep on such occasions. Opening the window of my room, I felt the mist of the night creeping upon my skin. Too tired to do or think of anything, I set myself in front of my beloved instrument once again and played a piece I've learned so long ago.

Then I saw the mist forming into a figure so real, I could have thought it was an actual person. It was my grandmother. She grinned at me, her crooked teeth showing. "Eh! You silly little boy! Come, come, I wanted to show you something. I don't have much time, but walk me around your ship." She whacked me with her stick, and I followed her.

"Oh, my dear little Hook! Look how much you've grown up!"

I tried suppressing a smile, my heart too confused and pained. A little grin wider, almost there. Finally. As if she had never left me. Because it didn't matter. She was there, smiling at me, telling me that she was proud of me and making me believe again that I was no monster. She took my hand and brought me back to my bed where she tucked me in and kissed me good night.

When I woke up, she was gone as I had presumed. No need to confide my little secret to anybody but in my heart, there's still an image of a 9-year old boy playing on the piano, when his mother entered the room, shook his hand for a beautiful piece she has taught him, and said, "Don't forget how beautiful your heart is, my little one." There might not be enough space for weakness in this space, but there is enough in my heart to dump this memory and leave it to settle with darkness.


End file.
